


Impetus

by AthanatosOra



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, But he learns from the best and Reborn is unmatched in this category, Friendship, Gen, Time Travel, Tsuna is a bit of a shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 03:46:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7027198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthanatosOra/pseuds/AthanatosOra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Im·pe·tus /ˈimpədəs/, the force that causes something to begin moving or to continue to move.</i><br/> </p><p>That's what he is. Sawada Tsunayoshi is the impetus that sets the gears in motion, with everyone else moving to <i>his</i> rhythm. </p><p>(KHR Time-travel/Friendship one-shot, featuring Reborn and Tsuna.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impetus

**Author's Note:**

> I swear to god I thought I posted this already. Well, clearly not, so I'm posting it now. Originally posted on tumblr. (what even are "good summaries")
> 
> I might turn this into a series and/or multi-chaptered fic later, each entry being from a different PoV, but I don't know yet. It'll be low priority regardless.

When Reborn first meets Sawada Tsunayoshi, he expects a scrawny, teenage boy living in complacent ignorance.

According to the information that had been compiled for him by CEDEF, Tsunayoshi is a clumsy teenager with below average grades in all subjects at school, netting him the mocking nickname of “Dame-Tsuna.” At home he is just as average, and though he has slowly become more helpful to Sawada Nana and generally more productive over the past few months, he is still just as painfully average and ill-suited to becoming Vongola Decimo at the moment.

According to the brief surveillance Reborn performed when he arrived in Namimori, the reports are accurate enough.

But when he finally makes his appearance in the Sawada household, expecting a gawky, confused teenager, he instead finds himself on the receiving end of a heavy gaze that has his hand twitch for his gun.

Tsunayoshi is a boy of thirteen years, with a willowy, angular build that speaks of transitioning adolescence, and he hardly appears to have the ability to harm a fly. He sits in a relaxed posture, leaning against the kitchen chair with an easy slouch to his back. Everything about him exudes neutrality and comfort, despite the fact he is alone with an otherwise stranger in the quiet kitchen.

Yet, his eyes— _brown_ eyes that do not even hold a hint of sunset orange—pin Reborn with an intense, unreadable gaze.

If Reborn was anyone else, he might have been somewhat intimidated. As it is, he is the Greatest Hitman in the World, and he is only bothered by the fact that neither CEDEF’s intelligence or  _himself_ had noticed anything remiss like this before.

He briefly checks his surroundings, noting the eerie silence and obvious lack of a Sawada Nana in the immediate area, despite knowing he hadn’t seen her leave at any point during the day—

“Maman is out at the moment,” Tsunayoshi says, his high-pitched voice at odds with the gravitas to his tone. His eyes never seem to waver from Reborn, and everything about him is unreadable. Unnerving. “She didn’t have the ingredients to cook what I asked for, so she decided to go grocery shopping.”

Reborn’s response is almost automatic. “Why didn’t you go yourself?” He questions before he can consider otherwise, mindset somewhere between tutor and trained assassin. “Your mother takes care of you, and you have a roof over your head. Menial tasks like grocery shopping should be handled by you.”

The reprimand rings somewhat hollow to Reborn’s own ears despite his conviction, and the wariness he feels both puzzles and unnerves him.

The feeling only grows when Tsunayoshi smiles, a strange, awkward tilt of his lips that Reborn cannot place. He interlaces his hands on the table, and his smile gains a sharp edge.

“It would have been rude to keep my guest waiting, considering he had already waited a week before introducing himself. I simply told Maman as such.”

Unease doesn’t begin to describe what Reborn feels at the moment, and it is a foreign emotion that he hasn’t experienced for years, decades. But he refrains from doing anything ill-advised, such as putting a hole through his _student’s_ head, and instead begins to explain his reasons for being there.

Tsunayoshi’s face is aggravatingly blank throughout the whole explanation, only nodding or giving monosyllabic responses to certain cues.

When Reborn asks if he has any questions—and how strange that is, considering he had expected the boy to be throwing questions and refusals from the very beginning—Tsunayoshi nods.

“Would you like some coffee?”

Reborn has to withhold the twitch that threatens to show. “Questions _related_ to what I have told you, Tsunayoshi.”

“No I don’t. Would you like some coffee, Reborn?”

If this is a ploy of some sort, Reborn cannot see the reason for one. He eyes the boy suspiciously, but nods anyway when he detects no ill-will.

Reborn blinks, and there is suddenly a steaming mug of coffee before him on the table.

“Drink it while it’s hot,” Tsunayoshi says, nursing his own cup. He takes a sip, and frowns. “… I think I waited too long to offer. It’s not bad, but not as hot as it should be.”

Eyeing the steaming beverage warily, Reborn picks it up, and discreetly readies his Sun flames. There is no odd coloring or scent to the drink—it actually smells rather good—but he refuses to be poisoned by his future student, so precautions are necessary.

He takes a tentative sip, and blinks at the taste. Italian roast, suspiciously similar to how his once-favorite cafe in Italy prepared it.

“We’re having Italian tonight,” Tsunayoshi says in-between sips, his eyes closed and his demeanor unguarded. “Maman is a good cook, so it’ll be good.”

Reborn quietly watches him, wondering. He idly wonders if the endearment is just that, an  _endearment_ , or if the boy truly knows French.

“Oui, je parle français,” Tsunayoshi says in unaccented French, a grin forming at Reborn’s narrowed gaze. “Ma io parlo italiano più fluente.”

Reborn knows that Tsunayoshi’s behavior is highly suspicious. The boy had not displayed any interest in other languages, let alone proficiency in them, and there is also the fact that he apparently _anticipated_ Reborn’s arrival.

… But Reborn also knows that the boy is, for lack of a better phrase, freely showing the hitman the truth, however indirect. It is not quite telling, but the glint in the boy’s eyes is enough to indicate that he knows exactly how much information he is divulging to the hitman, and that he means no harm to his person.

Perhaps, Reborn thinks, that is why he doesn’t feel a strong urge to pull a gun on his own student anymore.

(That doesn’t mean he will not watch. Reborn has a favor for Timoteo to accomplish, but if Vongola does not benefit from the boy being alive, the solution is easily accomplished.)

“ _Dame_ -Tsuna,” he says, “I don’t take kindly to people hiding information from me.”

The statement is a _threat_ , but without the full vehemence that usually accompanies its delivery.

He doesn’t quite know what, exactly, the thirteen-year-old boy has to hide. And while Reborn would usually find nothing wrong with threatening information out of another, he has the strange feeling that nothing would get the full truth out of the boy. Not unless he himself decided he wanted to tell Reborn.

That is surprisingly fine with the hitman. He can be patient. He reasons that he himself has his own secrets that cannot and will not be divulged.

(Tsuna is not his equal, he is his _student_ , but he has somehow afforded some level of respect from Reborn nonetheless.

He is a curious individual, and so long as the benefits of observing outweigh the potential dangers, Reborn is confident enough—in both his own abilities and position—to wait.)

Tsuna blinks. He smiles, apparently noticing the small peace-offering for what it is.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

* * *

 

_“_ _Hey, Reborn?”_

_“Do not start conversations with ‘hey,’ Dame-Tsuna. It is rude.”_

_“We’re friends, and no one’s around. Besides, I don’t see you pulling a gun on me.”_

_An irritated sigh. “_ Tsuna _.”_

_“Right, right. I wanted to ask you this. What would a person you didn’t know need to do in order to ingratiate themselves to you?”_

_“… Why the curiosity?”_

_“Well, er. That’s… it? I’m just curious.”_

_“Interesting.” A pause. “… They would need to be competent, firstly. In all areas. I do not favor ignorance, over-inflated pride, or indolence. They must have a certain appreciation for aesthetics and outward appearances, accompanying any intelligence or social worth they may have. Dullness, in all senses of the word, disgusts me.”_

_“You gave me a list on how to annoy you, not how to befriend you.”_

_“Even competent individuals do not always qualify for my ‘friendship’, Dame-Tsuna. In my profession, most of the capable people I meet are either a target that needs to be erased, or an enemy that may take my life if I am not careful.”_

_“… Huh. I was thinking that the ‘over-inflated pride’ bit was hypocritical, but I guess not if you can admit that.”_

_“…”_

_“Wow, to think you would pull a gun on me for a comment like that a decade ago. Now it’s just offended silence.”_

_“I don’t know what you mean. I still do on occasion, but only when I’m in the mood for a good spar.”_

_“Ahaha, I suppose so—Ah. Wait, you’re deflecting.”_

_“Maybe you could use a bit more training after all if you’re so easily distracted, Dame-Tsuna.”_

_“_ That _is an opinion. Besides, it’s a matter of who I’m speaking to. You, Kyoko, Haru, Kensuke, Hana, I-Pin and my guardians are the people I can fully relax around.” A sigh. “Really Reborn, what would a person need to do?”_

_“I already answered, for the most part. I have standards for who I believe is suitable to be a ‘friend,’ but those standards are typically at odds with my occupation. The only reason why I have ‘friends’ now is because I am also an official part of Vongola, and I have no worry of being stabbed in the back while here. Mostly.”_

_“… So, be competent, intelligent, capable, but also be trustworthy, open, and interesting?”_

_“In summary, yes.”_

_“… High standards.”_

_“That is also an opinion.” The click of a gun, and a dangerous smirk. “I think I’m in the mood for a bit of exercise now. How curious.”_


End file.
